


We've Met Before Haven't We?

by SamanthaAuburn



Category: Good Game (TV 2017)
Genre: Cutting reference., Drunk and high as hell, First Meeting, M/M, Switched AU, Tumblr Prompt, take care of yourselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 11:18:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15484620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaAuburn/pseuds/SamanthaAuburn
Summary: Ryland takes home a random stray that ends up changing his life forever.





	We've Met Before Haven't We?

**Author's Note:**

> Another Tumblr prompt! The first of many exploring Alex and Ryland's friendship/relationship before the main story in the Switched AU. Enjoy!

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” 

Ryland glanced up to meet the eyes of whatever idiot decided to try and engage him at the random club he had chosen to haunt that night. 

A tall, lanky man with wild curly hair, dark brown eyes and a strangely wide smile grinned at him from across the table in the corner of the dark club, his image slightly faded behind the lingering cigarette and marijuana smoke. He smelled lightly of alcohol and weed, shaking oddly for someone with such substances in his body. His grin was so big he practically drowned out the pounding music and enthusiastic dancing going on around them. He had the air of a crazy stray cat looking for a hand out.

Ryland blinked at him. “Um. I don’t--”

“Just say yes,” the other man hissed under his breath. 

“Um. . .” Ryland leaned back in his chair. “Yes?” 

“Awesome!” the other man said, a little too loudly. “Mind if I join you tonight? It sucks being alone at the club.” 

Ryland eyed him. What the fuck was this guy on about? He glanced around the room, wondering who had lost a crazy man. 

The guy didn’t wait for Ryland’s answer and he slid deeper in the booth Ryland had claimed for his own. He dropped a large glass on the table with him, full of who knew what insane poison. “Thanks, man. I’m always so nervous at these clubs.” He laughed, again, far too loudly. 

“Uh. Right. . .” Ryland blinked at him. What had he gotten himself into now, picking up this random stray? “I’m. . . I’m not really sure what you’re actually planning here, but it’d probably be more effective here if you gave me your name.” 

“Oh,” the man said, blushing slightly under the dim lights. “It’s Alex. Alex Taylor. I’d offer to shake your hand, but it’d ruin the illusion.” 

Ryland lowered his gaze. “Just what illusion are you trying to pull here anyway?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Alex said. “Can I buy you a drink?” 

“I don’t drink,” Ryland said. It wasn’t exactly the truth, though it wasn’t exactly a lie either. 

Alex frowned. “Then what the hell are you doing at a club?” 

“Watching other idiots drink,” Ryland said. “Keeps me sober.” 

“Ha!” Alex slapped his knee with such enthusiasm that Ryland jumped in his seat. “If only that worked for me, man.” He sipped at his glass, then pulled a joint seemingly out of his hair before lighting up. “Want a hit?” 

Ryland pressed his lips together. “No.” 

“Suit yourself.” He took a long drag, leaned back and let the smoke out slowly, a lazy smile gracing his lips. 

The pair sat in silence for several minutes. Ryland couldn’t take his eyes off the man. What the hell was this guy doing? “Um. . .”

“What’s up, Ry?” Alex said.

Ryland shut his eyes tight. “Don’t call me that.” 

Alex just grinned. 

“Am I going to get any answers out of you, or what?” 

“You ever just wish you could like. . . escape all the failures of the past?” 

Ryland frowned, images of a certain viral video ripping through his mind. Damn, that guy hit close to home. “Maybe.”

“I know what you mean man,” Alex said, taking another drag. “Life sucks with a capital S and a pretty pink bow on top of it. Too many failures.” His everlasting grin faded a moment, but he shook his head and it returned. “But hey, that’s what the future is for, right?” 

Ryland sighed and stared off into the distance. “Maybe.” 

“The past sucks,” Alex said again. “Gotta look to the future.” He reached for his glass and drained the rest of it in one go. He coughed. 

Ryland stared at the floor, the thrashing music slowly drowned out by his own thoughts. Damn, why did this random stranger have to bring up anything of his past? Didn’t he know how rude that was? Especially since Ryland was so damn caught up in it right now. . . what with the new MOBA crazes taking everything by storm. That was why he had confined himself to a club. Second hand highs, idiot watching, and over-the-top music was the only thing keeping him from dwelling on his stupid past. 

And keeping him from the ever-increasing supply of razor blades congregating on his nightstand. Ryland rubbed his forearms through his long sleeves, the pain from this morning still persistent. The scars ran deeper everyday. Some days. . . he wondered why prolong the inevitable--

“Hey Ry, let me crash at your place tonight.” 

Ryland reeled back at the stranger’s demand, losing all his previous thoughts. “What?” 

“Let me crash at your place,” Alex said, as easy as if he was talking to a brother. “I’m far too drunk to get to my own.” 

Ryland blinked at him. “I don’t even know you.”  
“Sure you do!” Alex said with a laugh. “We’ve met before, right? I confirmed that already!” 

Ryland stared a moment. “You’re completely insane.” 

“Naw, just high and drunk,” Alex said with a grin. “All the more reason to crash at a friend’s house.” 

Ryland could tell he wasn’t getting out of this. Sure enough, as Ryland slid out of the booth and started sneaking toward the door, Alex wiggled his way out too and staggered after him, following him all the back to the apartment. 

“Nice place you got,” Alex slurred his words together when they entered the room.

It absolutely was not nice. It was a cluttered mess of figurines, ripped posters, unwashed dishes, and rotting food. “Sure.” 

“Got a spare bed?” 

This guy. . . “Couch has a pull out bed. Crash there.” 

“Sure. Thanks, Ry,” Alex said. He stripped to and undershirt and boxers unabashedly and tugged at the pull out bed. Ryland watched him struggle a moment, trying to ignore the man’s exposed skin, before helping him pull the bed out. Without really thinking, he dug up a pillow and a thick sheet from the back room and passed it to him.

“Here.” 

“You’re an angel, Ryland,” Alex said, following his words with an exaggerated yawn. He lay back on the bed. “Just kick me out in the morning. It’s what everyone else does.” 

Ryland frowned at him. “Everyone else?” 

“Every night, yeah.” 

Ryland’s frown deepened. “You. . . you don’t have a place of your own, do you.”

“Nope! Caught me red handed,” Alex said. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow morning. No need to hide the silverware.” He laughed loudly, then snuggled under the sheet, letting his long curly hair spill out over the pillow. “Night, Ry.” He was asleep in an instant. 

Ryland watched him a moment, at a loss for words. This guy. . . was homeless? And obviously desperate to find someplace safe. 

If Ryland’s apartment could really be considered safe. 

Could he really kick the man out in the morning?

He shook his head, the events from that night swirling in his brain as he slid in his own bed. His last thought before falling into a deep sleep was at least there was something to distract him from his own troubles for once. 

\-----

“Ryland actually made us pancakes the next morning,” Alex told his teammates. Everyone was gathered in the living room after a hard practice session. Lorenzo had the bright idea to ask how Alex and Ryland met, and Alex was all too happy to share the story. “He told me I should at least have one meal in me before I joined the real world again. One meal turned into two. . . one night turned into one week. . . and pretty soon I was slowly bringing in the stuff I had stashed in storage into the apartment. Eventually I somehow ended up on the lease and that was just it.”

Ryland sat curled in one corner of the couch, Alex leaning against him with a content smile on his face. Ryland was sure he mimicked that smile, his heart soaring thinking about where they were now. Alex was no longer some random stranger desperate for a safe night in a comfortable bed. He was a dear friend, a savior. . . a husband. Ryland took a deep, content breath and pressed a kiss to Alex’s head. 

“I gotta say, I am both shocked and not at all surprised to hear that that’s how you two met,” Ash said. She eyed Ryland. “Why’d you let him stay?” 

Ryland rubbed Alex’s shoulder. “Because he gave me a reason to keep living.”

“If we’re all done with this touchy-feely stuff,” Kamal said. “I’m outtie. I’ll see you scrubs later.” He stood up, snatched up his backpack, and headed for the door. Ash and Sam followed soon after.

“See you two tomorrow,” Lorenzo said. He smiled at them. “Not the most romantic story, but thanks for sharing nonetheless.” 

“Of course,” Alex said, grinning. Lorenzo grinned back before leaving. 

When the front door shut for the final time, Ryland wrapped both arms around Alex and pulled him close. “I’m glad you talked to me that night.” 

“Well, it was either you or some fake boobed bimbo riding on who knew what substance that night,” Alex said with a laugh. He snuggled into Ryland’s arms. “I’m glad too. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Ryland said. “My crazy stray.”


End file.
